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And often-times, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkess tell us truths;
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepest consequence.
Shakespeare
the Kiss photograph by Clarence H White,1904
the Met
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Showing posts with label Easter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Easter. Show all posts
Passover vs. Easter
The soup photo, above, left, was sent to me by Terry Rosen. Her title, 'Kneidleachness Monster,' made me not even care that it's really a matzo ball snowman. Besides, it's creepy enough to pass for a monster. (Photo by Joyce Lapinsky Lewis)
'Peepzilla' was posted here by Stacy Hay.
and so it happened here
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painting by John Koch, Father & Son ,1955
first seen at underpaintings: here
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Zeus on Olympus dispenses many fates;
The gods bring many things surprisingly to pass.
That which we expected does not happen;
A god finds means to bring about the unexpected.
And so it happened here.
Euripides
painting by John Koch, Father & Son ,1955
first seen at underpaintings: here
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in your Easter bonnet I
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Mistinguett
by Nadar
When Mistinguett hiked up her skirts to expose her well-publicized legs (she once insured them for $3,000,000), even the sober members of her audience remarked that they were extraordinarily well preserved. In her comic numbers, Titina and Je Cherche un Millionaire, her Parisian brashness and high spirits seemed unimpaired. She kidded with the audience, snatched women's hats, put them on bald-headed ringside patrons, succeeded in getting nightclubbers to stand and join her in singing a final round of Paris.
"It's something electric," Mistinguett explains. "I take them like this. 'Come near me,' I say, and I draw them to me."
Why had she decided to come to the U.S.? "I like to move. I love New York. Everyone goes so fast. I do not like that people go slow." Mistinguett, whose shrewd business head has left her with a bulging bankbook, a safeful of jewels and three big houses, had another reason. "I love money. Not just to spend. I like to keep it—wash my hands in it." For her Manhattan engagement, the Martinique nightclub is paying her $4,000 a week. Time magazine here (from 1951,Manhattan gets its first look in 28 years at Mistinguett)
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craving coconut cake
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I can just see my Mother rushing about on Saturday putting the finishing touches on Easter outfits. One year she sewed a cream linen shift with blue trimmings and a blue linen cape to match. I'm sure I had a hat- or maybe just a new ribbon or trimming from the dress. It would all have matched. Beautifully turned out-except for the white patent leather shoes-of course they should have been cream-but really-that was not happening. If Mother did not sew- Daddie shopped for me. He always seemed to lean toward sailor ensembles. Once a sporty navy jacket with brass buttons and pleated skirt- topped off with a white beret-red, white and blue ribbons streaming from the side. I loved that hat. Yes, tailored sailor suits for his little girl- after all he was a Naval man. As evidenced by the cape, Mother preferred something more feminine- but again navy blue seemed to be a style choice both parents embraced. A spiffy navy and white houndstooth spring coat with matching dress that boasted a very smart white bib made of neat organdy ruffles. A white bowler finished off this look and the white patents did to, but I wore the black so I could carry my favourite handbag-the only one I owned at the time. An especially stylish two piece suit made of cotton with sprigs of flowers tossed about was another Easter look-sporty. I am sure the Boys got new ties or something like that.
Mother was busy during this holiday-besides doing wardrobe- she always baked a coconut cake. Not just any coconut cake but one that looked just like an Easter bunny-Didn't everyone have one? Yes, an Easter bunny cake-replete with jelly beans made from scratch. It followed-Easter. Coconut Cake. The coconut cake's decoration evolved as her children grew older. The bunny turned into a fresh green (coconut) lawn (sheetcake) and jelly beans hid in the landscape (icing). Mother no longer bakes-in fact-she was never a baker-but come Easter. Coconut Cake.
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I can just see my Mother rushing about on Saturday putting the finishing touches on Easter outfits. One year she sewed a cream linen shift with blue trimmings and a blue linen cape to match. I'm sure I had a hat- or maybe just a new ribbon or trimming from the dress. It would all have matched. Beautifully turned out-except for the white patent leather shoes-of course they should have been cream-but really-that was not happening. If Mother did not sew- Daddie shopped for me. He always seemed to lean toward sailor ensembles. Once a sporty navy jacket with brass buttons and pleated skirt- topped off with a white beret-red, white and blue ribbons streaming from the side. I loved that hat. Yes, tailored sailor suits for his little girl- after all he was a Naval man. As evidenced by the cape, Mother preferred something more feminine- but again navy blue seemed to be a style choice both parents embraced. A spiffy navy and white houndstooth spring coat with matching dress that boasted a very smart white bib made of neat organdy ruffles. A white bowler finished off this look and the white patents did to, but I wore the black so I could carry my favourite handbag-the only one I owned at the time. An especially stylish two piece suit made of cotton with sprigs of flowers tossed about was another Easter look-sporty. I am sure the Boys got new ties or something like that.
Mother was busy during this holiday-besides doing wardrobe- she always baked a coconut cake. Not just any coconut cake but one that looked just like an Easter bunny-Didn't everyone have one? Yes, an Easter bunny cake-replete with jelly beans made from scratch. It followed-Easter. Coconut Cake. The coconut cake's decoration evolved as her children grew older. The bunny turned into a fresh green (coconut) lawn (sheetcake) and jelly beans hid in the landscape (icing). Mother no longer bakes-in fact-she was never a baker-but come Easter. Coconut Cake.
just like this-it's lovely really but Mother is an artist
and Our Bunny was quite painterly (the cake from here)
and Our Bunny was quite painterly (the cake from here)
Easter corsages were the thing that finished off the Easter outfit. Occasionally my GranMa would make one for my Mother and I, oft times the florist was called and corsages were dropped off on Saturday- ordering up something that would be just perfect for a sailor.My mother looked particularly beautiful on these Easter Sunday mornings. None of the hectic Saturday wear of playing wardrobe mistress showed, nor the evening rounds of Sunday school lessons and overseeing my Saturday night shampoo. Mother always looked right- whether dressing up in the nautical style we so embraced or wearing a yellow two piece slubbed linen. The perfect yellow for Easter, I think. The colour of the hundreds of living peeps I would have been visiting out at my great grandmother's over the last few weeks prior to Easter.
The formidable MaMa & her daughter Eustean raised chickens-thus little biddy-peeps were always popping up to strengthen the brood. The kitchen was prime real estate for the appliance size boxes full of chicks. That country kitchen housed a massive much used cook stove and assured the chirpping yellow masses would be warm. Holding them, I thought of the sad little purple and greens biddys I had seen at the dime store. Did they ever survive? They looked so sad-I pitied those little peeps. Poor peeps- likely their fate was no different from MaMa's chicks, or for my brother's pet duck whose life was "cut short" when he went to live with his relatives. These two ladies were of sturdy German stock, little sentiment was allowed when it came to a pet duck versus a savory Sunday lunch on the table, but that's another story.
The formidable MaMa & her daughter Eustean raised chickens-thus little biddy-peeps were always popping up to strengthen the brood. The kitchen was prime real estate for the appliance size boxes full of chicks. That country kitchen housed a massive much used cook stove and assured the chirpping yellow masses would be warm. Holding them, I thought of the sad little purple and greens biddys I had seen at the dime store. Did they ever survive? They looked so sad-I pitied those little peeps. Poor peeps- likely their fate was no different from MaMa's chicks, or for my brother's pet duck whose life was "cut short" when he went to live with his relatives. These two ladies were of sturdy German stock, little sentiment was allowed when it came to a pet duck versus a savory Sunday lunch on the table, but that's another story.
After much success with wardrobe at Sunday services, the long awaited Easter Egg hunt at Naomi and Lewis's (my grandparents-they liked to be call by their first names) commenced.
Hidden eggs, cousins, the prize. I don't remember what it was, probably money. I never won, but with each egg I collected dozens of Easter memories were being put away for a day like today when nothing but coconut cake will do.
Happy Easter-whatever your preferences might be.
(last year's little augury Easter Posts here and here)Hidden eggs, cousins, the prize. I don't remember what it was, probably money. I never won, but with each egg I collected dozens of Easter memories were being put away for a day like today when nothing but coconut cake will do.
Happy Easter-whatever your preferences might be.
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the greatest story by the greatest painter of his time
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the first time I saw the Giotto images as an art student- I was captivated, that was 31 years ago-Nothing has changed. I hope to see the faces of these frescoes face to face one day.
Giotto di Bondone 1266-1337,
detail of the Capella degli Scrovegni here,
The Capella degli Scrovegni site here
more here
secret Giotto found in Florence's Saint Croce Chapel here
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the first time I saw the Giotto images as an art student- I was captivated, that was 31 years ago-Nothing has changed. I hope to see the faces of these frescoes face to face one day.
Giotto di Bondone 1266-1337,
detail of the Capella degli Scrovegni here,
The Capella degli Scrovegni site here
more here
secret Giotto found in Florence's Saint Croce Chapel here
.
